Ends and Beginnings
by purplepie1
Summary: Elliot finally finds out how Tyrell knows Darlene. The truth is far worse than he imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **I'm going to be continuing this series with some short stories that follow Tyrell and Elliot's relationship. Hope you enjoy!** **  
Come chat to me on Tumblr if you have any prompts/requests. I'm Purplepie1**

 **:-)**

 **I hope that everything ties in with the events in the show. If you spot anything that doesn't add up, or have any questions, let me know!**

Darlene burst into Elliot's apartment without grace or preamble, as usual. Elliot and Tyrell had been lying entwined together on the sofa, and they broke apart in surprise to turn and face Darlene.

'Darlene,' Elliot breathed, 'what are you…'

'So I see congratulations are in order,' she gestured at the two of them. 'I sent a card but it must've gotten lost in the mail,' she spat sarcastically. They both jumped up, and Elliot moved to stand closer to his sister.

'Darlene, I…what…' he stuttered. She ignored him, choosing to face Tyrell instead.

'So I suppose my brother has no idea how you took advantage of him?'

'Darlene, I don't…' Tyrell started.

'No, uh-huh,' she shook her head with fierce determination, taking angry strides towards him. Neither man fully registered what she was about to do, and Elliot flinched when she landed a hard slap across Tyrell's cheek.

Tyrell didn't stumble, but he blinked in surprise, eyes watering reflexively.

'You deserve that, and more, you son of a bitch! You knew, the whole time. You knew, and you exploited him! My brother can be a pain in the ass, but he definitely didn't deserve that.'

Elliot looked on, confused. He was certain that Darlene had to be making some sort of mistake, and felt the air rush out of his lungs when a look of recognition and shame clouded Tyrell's face.

'You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you Mr Wellick?' Darlene continued. 'How about you tell Elliot what you did?'

Tyrell looked at Elliot with wide, pleading eyes, as if trying to convey some sort of silent apology.

'Tyrell, what's she talking about?'

Several long, awkward moments passed. Darlene was glaring at Tyrell, but he wasn't paying attention to her, instead searching Elliot's face desperately.

He ran his hand through his hair and took in a deep breath.

'Elliot, there's no easy way to tell you this. I knew when I saw you…' he faltered. He cleared his throat and started again. He looked down, knowing he wouldn't get through what he was about to say if he could see Elliot's face.

He kept his voice even and measured, as if delivering a speech. There was no sense beating around the bush, and somehow he reasoned that a concise, emotionless delivery would be easier on Elliot. And maybe him as well. This was it, the moment he knew would come eventually. There was no sense in dragging it out. He fought a shudder. He could feel his attempts to disconnect from the situation start to fail. This was it, the moment he'd lose Elliot. He wasn't sure how he'd get through it, but knew he deserved everything that was about to happen.

'From the moment I met you, you intrigued me, so I kept you in my sights. When you framed Colby I started to see you as a potential ally, a useful tool I could keep in my back pocket. And most importantly, I had leverage over you. So then when things started to…' he paused for the right words, '…fall apart for me, professionally, I realised it was time to move in. I arranged a meeting with you, to discuss a plan I was putting in motion. By now, I knew of your extracurricular activities of course, but had no idea of the scale of what you were planning. You were exciting, and dangerous, and I wanted to know your game plan. But it was too soon, so I came to you with my proposal instead. I would pay you generously to launch an attack on E Corp, which I would of course intercept. I would get to prove myself, secure my position as CTO, and get to know you better at the same time. But you weren't interested. You explained you weren't motivated by money. I admired that, but it frustrated me at the same time. People like me buy others, Elliot. It's lazy and inelegant, but it's effective. Not with you though. So I went further- I threatened you. But you quite rightly pointed out that you had enough dirt on me to take me down with you, so I desisted. You promised me that you had exciting plans, and that what I was doing was insignificant by comparison.'

Elliot paled, feeling sick. What the fuck was Tyrell talking about? When was this conversation? And why did he have a feeling it was about to get a whole lot worse?

'I was satisfied, temporarily, but things continued to go downhill for me, so I came to you again, asking you to reconsider my offer. You had no idea what I was talking about. I assumed you were playing the fool to throw me off, but when I came to you a third time you'd changed tactics again. You were aggressive and confident- all the things I was unaccustomed to seeing in you. It was like you were a different person. That's when I realised what was going on.'

He stopped, looking like he was fighting a raging battle inside himself. Eventually he continued.

'I wasn't lying when I told you I'd been watching you Elliot. I watched you a bit too intently, I must confess. I knew you were seeing a therapist, so that seemed like my next step. I wanted to know if my theory was correct. It's easier to change the game plan if you know how many players you're up against. Of course, therapists only keep paper notes, so that was a dead-end for me. But I had other ways of listening in.'

Elliot recalled the suspicious looking plug socket in Krista's office, and his stomach churned. Despite the matter-of-fact way he was trying to recount the events, Tyrell looked like this was killing him. His voice was starting to waver, and he looked dangerously close to tears. Elliot felt no sympathy though, only white-hot anger and betrayal. He remembered with startling clarity why he used to be so afraid of Tyrell.

'I didn't learn much from your sessions, except that I was either incorrect, or you were unaware of the extent of your own delusions. Neither really helped me. I came to you again, on Coney Island. I was desperate by this point. Again you refused my offers and reminded me that I actually had no real power over you. Disappointed once more, I was about to leave when Darlene decided to make herself known to me. She warned me that she'd noticed me hanging around. She knew I'd been pursuing you. I don't think she knew who I was at the time, but she definitely didn't like me. She told me that she didn't trust me, and had been advising you to stay away from me. I couldn't really argue with her, it's the same advice I would have given you had I been her.'

Elliot felt a rush of gratitude towards Darlene, but again, an overwhelming sense of fear. He couldn't, no, _*didn't want to_ * believe what Tyrell was saying. He felt as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. When he'd hacked Tyrell's online profiles he'd learned nothing about him, yet Tyrell had sussed him out, mostly by simply observing him. He'd hacked him the old-fashioned way and somehow discovered everything, down to every last bug and flaw in his code. The thought made Elliot shiver. Before he could continue trying to process his thoughts, Darlene cut in.

'Elliot, I had no idea who he was, or how much he was manipulating you. I didn't know he knew about your illness. Fuck _, *I*_ didn't even know how unwell you were at this point, I could never have…'

'It's okay,' Elliot muttered numbly. He knew Darlene must be feeling guilty that Tyrell had spotted what she had missed, but he couldn't muster the strength to reassure her right now.

'No Elliot, it's not. I had no idea what was happening to you, and to think that _*he*_ knew, and took advantage of you…' she trailed off, looking like she might slap Tyrell again, before composing herself and continuing.

'It only recently dawned on me how much he must have known. Something he said to me when I confronted him… something about seeing you fall…it didn't make sense at the time, but tonight it just clicked…'

'I don't care.' Elliot knew he was being blunt. He honestly just needed Darlene to stop talking so Tyrell could continue. She carried on anyway.

'He's a psycho Elliot. I don't know what the fuck he's told you, or why you're playing fucking house with him now, but he doesn't care about you. He's always had his own agenda, and nothing has changed.'

'That's not true.' Tyrell spoke up. 'It was true, certainly, but it's not any more. I realised that I was fighting for the wrong side. I begged to be a part of your plan because I genuinely realised that you stood for something far greater than I ever did. You were right. It made my objectives seem petty and trivial by comparison. And I know I've betrayed you. I know how wrong it was to manipulate you the way I did, and I'm so sorry.' Darlene rolled her eyes, but Tyrell was paying no attention to her.

'Elliot,' his voice softened, and he moved towards him with his hands outstretched.

'I was a very bad person before. I have done things, so many unforgivable things, and I will never be able to undo them,' his voice was starting to crack, 'but I hope, no, I * _beg*_ that you will give me the chance to fix this. Please…' he shot a desperate look at Darlene, '…if we could have a moment alone to talk…'

'You could manipulate me all over again?' Elliot snapped, flinching away from him.

'Elliot, I…'

'What, you have some more lies you'd like to feed me? I trusted you, despite all my better judgements. What the fuck was I thinking?' His eyes were starting to well up, but he scrubbed at them angrily with his fists.

'And you, of all people, know how this feels. I felt so awful for you when you found out everyone around you had been lying to you. When your life got torn apart I wanted more than anything to take your pain away, but now I'm glad it happened to you,' he spat viciously.

'You deserve all of it, you sick fuck. You deserve to be alone.' By now he was red in the face, and panting. A vein throbbed in his forehead, and his throat felt hoarse, but he couldn't stop the torrent of hate-filled words that flowed from his mouth.

'Do you even care about people? They're all just things you can bend and shape to your will, aren't they? You don't know love, you know leverage. You see other people's weaknesses as things you can hold over them and use to your advantage. I thought I saw the good in you, but there isn't any. You think there's some sort of light inside you, and you cling to it like a sad little child, but it went out a long time ago. Or maybe it was never there. I don't give a shit to be honest.'

'Elliot, please…' he stepped further forward, reaching out his left hand to touch Elliot's arm.

'No!' Elliot roared, lurching forwards and slamming both his hands into Tyrell's chest.

Tyrell stumbled backwards, and was trying to regain his balance when Elliot's fist made contact with his cheekbone.

He gasped in pain and surprise, reaching to steady himself on the sofa.

He brought a hand up to his face, wincing as he pleaded, 'Elliot…'

'GET OUT!' Elliot screeched, swinging a fist at him again. This time Darlene intervened, grabbing her brother's arms and shushing him gently.

'Get out, get out, get OUT!' he shouted frantically, struggling in Darlene's grip. Tyrell had never seen him look so distraught; his cheeks an ugly puce, and eyes wide and filled with tears. He managed to free himself from Darlene's grasp, but rather than lunge at Tyrell again, he curled in on himself, pulling harshly at his hair with an inhuman wail.

Tyrell was momentarily frozen, unable to take his eyes off Elliot, before his other senses returned to him with a jolt.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered to both of them, before turning to walk out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Tyrell had wanted to tell Elliot, he really had. When Elliot had been so kind to him, and taken care of him, he'd felt the guilt blackening his insides. Like a match that had just been struck, the fire coursed through him, charring everything in its wake, and every day they'd spent together since, he'd felt more and more of himself crumbling to ash.

Despite everything that had happened, and the sorry state of the world, they were happy, of that Tyrell was sure. They'd relaxed into an easy rhythm, with Tyrell spending most of him time at Elliot's. They'd learned about each other, the proper way, by talking and sharing stories. It had been nice, and a fairly new experience for both of them. Tyrell knew about Elliot's parents, and had squeezed his hand when Elliot had told him about his father's death. He'd felt like he needed to apologize, even though he knew rationally he wasn't responsible.

He'd told Elliot about his own parents, and the car crash that had claimed them so young, and so suddenly. They shared the things they'd loved, hated and missed about their families, and felt united by their grief.

Tyrell looked down at his left hand, studying the finger that had once housed his wedding ring. He'd taken it off the day after he'd stood on the edge of Elliot's roof, ready to jump. Instead of feeling sad, he'd felt optimistic. He looked back on that day like a rebirth of sorts. Elliot had pulled him back from the edge in more ways than one, and he was starting to feel the first glimmers of hope breaking through the shroud of grief that had settled heavily upon him.

Now all that was left on his ring finger was a small indent and patch of pale dry skin, the last reminder of his marriage. He'd scrubbed at it, tried to moisturise it, but it was taking its time to heal and return to normal. It was strange- when he first got married he couldn't stop playing with the ring. He wasn't accustomed to wearing jewellery, and the novelty took a while to wear off. The white gold band felt heavy with importance, and he liked to sometimes just look at it.

Eventually it just became a part of him. He never took it off, and rarely paid special attention to it. Now though, he was acutely aware of its absence, and often found himself trying to twirl the ring around his finger like he'd done in the early days. He suspected Elliot had noticed, and hoped he didn't read too much into it.

His mind jumping back to the present, he shivered. He'd planned to tell Elliot, he honestly had. He'd wanted to come clean with him, but he was a coward. He didn't want to ruin things between them; he just wanted to finally be happy. The younger man had brought him so much comfort during the hell of the last few weeks, and he wanted, _needed_ to cling onto that. He was selfish. Now, staring at the blank space on his ring-finger he realised that Elliot was right. He didn't deserve love, or happiness.

What he'd done to Elliot was no different to what Joanna had done to him, in a way. He'd tricked him, manipulated him like a puppet. He'd spotted a weakness and struck like a predator. No, what he'd done was worse than Joanna. Oh God. He prayed that Elliot was alright, remembering with a shudder what he himself had done when faced with the awful truth of Joanna's deceit. But Elliot had Darlene there, she would look after him.

He truly felt disgusted with himself, shame squeezing around his stomach and his heart, and making him feel breathless. He fought away tears as his legs stopped moving. He felt like he was shutting down.

He looked up suddenly, realising he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going. It took him a while to get his bearings in the unfamiliar neighbourhood, but he eventually worked out he was fairly near Joanna's house.

He looked down at his watch- it was late. Joanna would probably still be up, but she'd be tired. And it was weird to stop by your ex-wife's house late at night, unannounced- especially after an argument with your new partner. Tyrell wasn't really sure what the protocol was (they'd pretty much been making up the rules as they went along), but he was fairly certain that wasn't appropriate. That said, things had been really good with them lately. They were slowly forging a comfortable friendship and moving past what had happened between them. Tyrell tried to see Otto as much as he could and Joanna had been nothing but accommodating. All in all, things were probably as good as they possibly could be on that front. He rubbed a hand roughly across his face, pacing awkwardly in circles on the sidewalk.

'Fuck it!' he thought to himself eventually, taking determined strides towards Joanna's house. She'd been his other half for thirteen years, and knew him better than anyone. Through so many ups and downs in his life she'd been his guiding light, and naturally a small part of him still felt drawn to her in times of uncertainty.

Before he knew it he was at her door, and he paused for several moments before hesitantly knocking. He didn't think she was going to answer, and was about to turn to leave when the door opened suddenly.

'Tyrell? What are you doing here?'

Hearing the concern in her voice, he immediately regretted his decision. He couldn't just run to her when he was upset. He felt like a child who'd just woken up from a bad dream, and shame coloured his cheeks.

Avoiding her gaze he mumbled, 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here. I'm fine, really…'

'Tyrell, don't be stupid,' she scolded, 'come in.'

He froze momentarily before shuffling inside.

In the light she tried to get a better look at him. 'Tyrell, are you okay?'

He nodded. She frowned and reached out to touch his cheek.

'You have a bruise,' she said with concern. He flinched with surprise; he'd forgotten all about that, and the reminder of what happened was more painful than the pressure of Joanna's fingers on his skin.

'And you're freezing,' she remarked.

He hadn't even realised he was shivering. It was cold outside and in his rush to leave Elliot's he hadn't grabbed a jacket. She led him to the living room, and handed him a blanket which he covered himself with on the sofa. He closed his eyes while she went off to get them both a drink.

His moment of peace was interrupted when she came back, putting a glass of water on the table in front of him, and gently touching his arm.

'What happened?' she tried again.

'Nothing, everything's fine, I just wanted to see…'

'Tyrell, come on, cut the bullshit.'

'I just don't understand,' he eventually began, 'you're supposed to be able to look at your own life and feel proud of what you've accomplished, aren't you? You should be able to see how you've grown as a person, and take comfort in the lessons you've learned from your mistakes. I used to feel pride in myself, or at least I think I did. I worked hard, did everything that was expected of me, everything I could to make them proud. Make you proud. I was on a path. How was that not enough?!' he cried. She sensed he didn't really want an answer to that, and stayed quiet.

'I used to believe that I had a lot going for me, I was confident that I was doing the right thing. But now…' he trailed off, looking lost. He cleared his throat.

'Now, I don't know. I look back on the last few years and see myself as nothing but a waste. A mindless drone who used what little free will and autonomy he had to do terrible, _terrible_ things to people. What was the point of my existence? I've made so many mistakes, and I've always told myself that I can wipe the slate clean and start again, but I think it's too late now. People can't just erase the bad they've done. It's there permanently, staining everyone and everything it touches until one day you wake up and nothing looks the same anymore.'

'Tyrell, you're starting to worry me. What is this about?'

It took him a minute or two to work out where he wanted to start, but he decided to just go for it. He told her everything he'd done to Elliot, all the awful ways he'd deceived and taken advantage of him.

When he finished her face was blank, there was no judgement clouding her features. He'd always found it comforting- the ability she had to just listen, and compose her response carefully and quietly, without letting her expressions betray her. It gave her an air of calm which always rubbed off on him. He could see her brain ticking now as she processed what he'd told her. Finally she posed him a simple question, but one that caught him off guard.

'Have you forgiven me?'

'What, I don't-'

'For how I deceived you?'

He swallowed. This was not where he'd expected the conversation to go. He took time to contemplate his response, wishing he had some of Joanna's poise. He knew his eyes were betraying his emotions. As much as he'd once prided himself on his poker-face, it was something he'd felt slip away from him in recent weeks. Where he'd once been calculated and controlled in his movements at all times, he was now an open book. Especially where Joanna and Elliot were concerned. He wasn't able to pinpoint the exact moment he started to unravel in this way, but he suspected it was sometime around the day he met Elliot. How telling that was.

'Yes, I have.'

She just smiled at him, and he felt compelled to elaborate.

'It hurts, and I'm not sure if that feeling will ever go away completely, but yes, I forgive you. I understand why you did it, and I have come to realise that holding on to ill-feeling will get me nowhere. I want us to have a good relationship, and I want to be part of our family, so I see no other way.'

'Exactly,' she nodded, like this settled everything. He looked at her in confusion, before the meaning of her words sank in.

'Joanna, this is a very different situation. I'm not sure how you can even compare the two.'

'I deceived you, you deceived him.'

'It's not that simple! And even if it were, I forgave you because I couldn't bear to lose someone who's been such a big part of my life for so long. We have a child together! Those are ties you don't just sever. I've known Elliot a few months- it would be easy for us to walk away from each other with very few repercussions.'

'You loved me, and he loves you. It's the same.'

Tyrell was starting to get frustrated by how black and white she was making the situation.

'It's not the same at all!'

'So you don't love each other?'

'Yes, we do,' he whispered, not wanting to meet her eyes. For some reason, admitting it to her made him feel guilty, though he knew it shouldn't. Again, he regretted his decision to come to her.

She ducked her head to try and meet his eyes, resting a hand on his. She felt him flinch, only slightly, and probably unconsciously, but it was noticeable nonetheless.

'It's the same,' she reiterated. 'He'll forgive you, I'm certain of it.' He wanted to believe her, he really did. He felt a sudden need to explain something to her.

'It's different, with Elliot. We were partners Joanna; we fought side-by-side. We shared a life that I treasured, and a home, but somehow we were still separate people. With Elliot, it feels like we are one. I end where he begins, and vice versa. I don't know how to explain it.'

'Well that sounds like all the more reason he won't just walk away,' she smiled, but her eyes filled with tears. Not that long ago he would have felt a strange stab of happiness at having hurt her, but now he just felt remorse.

'I'm sorry Joanna.'

'Don't be, there's no need,' she reassured him with a wave of her hand. He pulled her in gently and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her face in his chest and brought her hands around his waist. They stayed like this for several minutes, before he pulled back and cleared his throat.

'I should probably go.'

'You don't have to.'

'I should try and talk to Elliot.'

She just nodded.

After reassuring her that he wouldn't wake him up, Tyrell went upstairs to pop in to see Otto. As he watched the sleeping baby he smiled sadly. His biggest wish was that his son would grow up to make good decisions, and follow the right paths in life. He promised right then that he would always be there to offer whatever guidance he could.

Perhaps he wouldn't be able to undo the wrong he'd done in his own life, but his son's slate was blank, a beautiful white canvas. In a weird way it felt like it was the universe's way of offering him a chance at redemption. He'd be damned if he didn't do everything he could to protect his son from making the same mistakes he did.

Back downstairs, he said his goodbyes to Joanna and gave her a final hug.

'Thank you,' he whispered into her hair and she squeezed him gently in response.


	3. Chapter 3

After Tyrell left, Elliot had been inconsolable. He'd curled in on himself, taking in desperate lungfuls of air in between sobs. Darlene had tried to calm him down but he had jerked away from her touch. She knew him better than to try and talk to him, so she just sat beside him. Knowing she was there would be enough for him.

Eventually his sobs ceased and he leaned his head on Darlene's shoulder.

'I don't want to be alone again,' he whispered hoarsely.

'That's not a reason to be with someone, you know that right?'

'He needs me.'

'Fuck him Elliot! He lost that right!'

'You don't know what happened to him, it's…'

'Stop making excuses for him Elliot! It's bullshit!' she screeched angrily.

He paused and lowered his eyes.

'I need him,' he whispered. Ah. There it was.

'Why?'

'I don't know. Sometimes I wish I didn't.'

Darlene wasn't very good at love; it wasn't something she really understood. Unlike most people, she didn't really crave it either. She had a tendency to walk away from people before they got too attached, and she was fine with that. She liked to live day-to-day, thrived on uncertainty and unpredictability. She enjoyed sex, obviously, but she sought it out to suit her. So she was at a bit of a loss as to what to say to Elliot.

'You obviously know him a lot better than I do. My gut tells me you'd be making a huge mistake, but if you do decide to trust him again, make sure you do it for the right reasons. Only stay with him if you want to, not because of some misguided sense of obligation. And I swear to God, if he does anything to hurt you again, I will destroy him.'

Elliot just nodded.

It took a little while after that, but he finally managed to convince Darlene that he would be alright by himself. She made him promise to call if he needed anything, but he shook his head and told her he just needed to be alone.

He got into bed and pulled the covers around him tightly. Flipper sat beside him.

He felt so conflicted. He hadn't really meant the things he'd said to Tyrell. He'd been angry and hurt, but he hadn't truly believed what he'd said about Tyrell having no good left in him. In fact, the last few weeks had demonstrated quite the opposite. It was as if a new Tyrell had risen up from the ashes of his old life. Actually scratch that, he didn't believe this was a new Tyrell, but rather who he actually was, coming back to life.

He'd watched Tyrell transform from someone who was hardened and volatile, to the softer, kind man Elliot suspected had always sat beneath the surface. The gentle version of Tyrell that he'd kept hidden away, for fear of looking weak. Elliot had liked watching it break through the surface.

He liked how Tyrell smiled when he talked about his son. He liked hearing stories about his past- they helped him to understand what had made Tyrell the way he was for so long. Most of all, he liked how Tyrell looked at him. Love and reverence warmed his cold, blue eyes. When they'd first met, it made him feel uncomfortable. When Tyrell was trying to persuade him to work at E Corp, his intensity had made Elliot feel like an animal, trapped in a cage. That intoxicated look of wonderment that shone in his eyes had been so unsettling, but now...

No, Elliot didn't believe a word of what he'd said to Tyrell, and he flinched now, regretting his hurtful accusations. He'd felt betrayed, and so blindingly angry, but he didn't believe that Tyrell didn't deserve love.

Yes, Elliot definitely got the sense that this man he'd come to care for had always been locked away deep inside, and he felt a glow of pride that he'd been the key to unlocking it. Tyrell was still sharp and resilient, and Elliot felt sure that when the world calmed down, he would land on his feet and find success again. But he was relaxed now, happier and more confident in himself. He didn't have the look in his eye of a caged animal, or the gait of a person constantly being chased.

Elliot squeezed his eyes shut, as an unwelcome reminder of what Tyrell had done ripped through his mind. Tyrell knew about his delusions, and the parts of himself that truly frightened him. While Elliot had been going about his life as best as he could, unaware that not everything was as it seemed, Tyrell had known the truth. Tyrell had known about the ghosts that haunted him, how reality tricked him, and how illusion bled into the corners of his vision.

A thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Tyrell had _told him_ that he knew, or at least alluded to it. What was it he'd said when Elliot had been trying to talk him off the roof? Something about how he knew how Elliot's mind tricked him. That Elliot struggled to differentiate between what was real, and what wasn't. Shit. How had he missed that? How had he not looked deeper into those words? He'd been so afraid at the time that their meaning hadn't even registered.

Elliot thought he might be sick. He hated that his mind had such power over him. That he could never be truly certain of anything. That sometimes he took on a whole life that wasn't his own and acted outside of himself. That he forgot things, lost whole chunks of time. He'd forgotten Darlene was his sister. He'd had conversations with his fucking dead father that he'd sworn were real. Worse still, his delusions made him hurt himself. He'd put himself in hospital, thrown himself out of a window. Who knows what else? He started to shake as he felt overwhelmed by the fear of the danger his mind put him in. Lately he'd often felt like he was spiralling out of control, his grip on reality getting weaker by the day.

And the thought that someone else knew what he was going through and not only didn't help him, but actually _took advantage_ of his vulnerability, made him physically gag. Tyrell had somehow, inexplicably been able to see what no-one else could. Many others looked at him with concern in their eyes – Krista, Gideon, Darlene- but somehow missed it. Not that he blamed them. If he had no idea what was going on in his own mind, how would anyone else be able to see it? There must have been times when his behaviour had seemed odd though. Or odd enough to cause alarm, surely? When Darlene and Angela had found him by his father's grave they'd looked stunned, speechless. How were they so surprised?

Tyrell couldn't have known all the details, surely? He couldn't have known that it was the ghost of his father that haunted him, goaded him and took over his senses. But yet he knew that something wasn't right. He'd sensed it, seen it, pieced together the clues, and sussed him out. He knew that there were times when Elliot wasn't Elliot. When he could talk to Elliot without fear of repercussion, because Elliot would have no memory of it afterwards. How?! He slammed his fist into the wall, and winced with pain.

Since the hack, and the events that followed shortly after, he'd actually felt a strange sense of calm. As if while the earth spun faster on its axis, he was somehow slowing down. He found clarity in the chaos, and felt a strange sense of hope. Some of that was, in part, down to Tyrell. Faced with the task of rebuilding their lives, they were united. They respected and cared for one another, and gave each other purpose in a world now filled with uncertainty. They were good for each other, or so Elliot had thought. He felt a sob growing in his throat, and strained his eyes in an attempt to quell the tears that were forming in the corners.

He knew that this was, by far, not the worst thing Tyrell had ever done. Yet he was willing to overlook his other crimes– why? Because Tyrell hadn't done those other things to him? If so, what kind of person did that make him?

No, that wasn't it. Some of Tyrell's other crimes had been motivated by fear. He'd felt like he was backed into a corner, so he lashed out. Others were simply because he'd reached a point where he was so single-mindedly driven by his ambition that there was literally nothing he wouldn't have done. But none of these crimes had brought him any enjoyment. Some tasks he'd gone about robotically, detaching himself from the situation, to get the job done. Other times he'd been horrified by his own actions. He'd clawed, struggled and fought his way to keep afloat and torn himself apart in the process.

But the way Tyrell had described his encounters with Elliot…he made it sound like he'd enjoyed it. Like it was a game he was playing. Like Elliot was a toy, and it didn't matter that he was completely, irreparably fucking with his mind. He knew Tyrell had come to him out of desperation, like everything else he did, but he had definitely drawn pleasure from it too. Why? What kind of human being enjoyed doing something like that to another person?

How would he ever be able to trust Tyrell again? He didn't want to lose him, but it was hard enough not being able to trust yourself, without the fear that someone you loved was taking advantage of you when you were at your weakest. The thought terrified him. He felt so powerless, and alone.

No-one understood what this was like. What was it Angela had said to him? That she was _jealous_ that he'd been seeing his dad?! He'd been so angry when she'd said that. How could she be so naïve? He was trapped in a nightmare, having conversations with nothing but a facsimile of his father. And she envied him?! Could she not see how fucking paralysed with fear his own helplessness made him? How devastating it was to think your father was actually still alive, only to then lose him all over again? It was so fucking far from comforting that he'd almost laughed in her face.

No-one understood him, except apparently, Tyrell. And now Elliot couldn't trust him. He let out a sob of frustration. Where did that leave him?

He began to cry, hot tears of anger, frustration and fear. Sorrow coursed through him like a chill, leaving him shivering and covered in goose-bumps.

He wasn't sure how long how long he stayed like that, but he was eventually interrupted by a knocking on his door.

Tyrell's voice drifted softly through the wall.

'Elliot, are you there?'


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **That's it, sorry it wasn't quite 5 chapters! I hope you've enjoyed it though. :-) I'm already working on a little something else, but I'm also taking prompts over on Tumblr – I'm Purplepie1** **  
** **Let me know what you thought! :-)**

He gasped softly, rubbing at his eyes and willing himself to stop crying. Sitting stock still, he held his breath and tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

'Elliot, please. I know you're in there. I just want to know if you're alright.'

He kept silent.

'Please, I just want to talk to you. I'll do anything. Elliot, I'm so sorry. I'm begging you to let me make this right.' His voice was rising, as panic started to spread through him.

'Elliot, I love you. Please!'

At this, Elliot's neighbour came out and frowned at Tyrell, who fixed her with a withering stare.

'Elliot, please let me in. Or at least let me know you're okay,' he continued, knocking again on the door. He'd turned away from the nosy neighbour, but could feel her glaring at the back of his head. He spun around to face her and snapped, 'Is there something I can help you with?'

She shook her head, tutting angrily at him, but retreated back into her apartment. Tyrell swore under his breath in Swedish.

'Elliot, I'm not going to leave. I'll stay out here all night if I have to.' He knew Tyrell would be true to his word. He'd have to face him eventually, but he couldn't do it just yet. He wasn't ready.

Tyrell sighed sadly, and sat on the grubby-looking floor, with his back against the door. It was two-am by this point and Tyrell was exhausted, the events of the day having now fully caught up with him. He let himself close his eyes for a moment.

In the apartment, Elliot released the breath he'd been holding for far too long. Tyrell had been quiet for a few minutes, but Elliot knew he hadn't left. As much as he hated the other man right now, he didn't know if he could let him sleep out there. He closed his eyes to try and clear his head and compose himself before letting Tyrell in. He felt all his anger leave him as he succumbed to the bone-crushing tiredness he'd been trying to fight off.

He jerked awake some time later. Shit! What time was it? Looking at his phone he saw that it was just after four-am. Fuck! He hadn't meant to fall asleep.

'Tyrell?' he called out hesitantly. No answer. He'd probably fallen asleep too, Elliot wouldn't be surprised. He had a remarkable ability to fall asleep anywhere. Bent at uncomfortable angles, surrounded by loud noises, with the lights on- if he was tired enough nothing stopped him. Elliot found it amazing, but always manoeuvred him so he was lying down, and made sure he was more comfortable.

He rushed over to the door.

'Tyrell?' he tried again, knocking lightly on the door. No answer. That was the other thing about Tyrell- he slept like the dead. Elliot had found it slightly creepy at first, but soon realised it was quite handy. He never slept amazingly, so if he got up and clattered around at five-am, or tossed and turned in bed, he never disturbed Tyrell.

Slowly, he opened the door. Tyrell fell back, slumping towards Elliot's feet. The movement startled him awake and he swore loudly. Quickly getting his bearings he shifted to kneel in front of Elliot, looking up at him with wide eyes.

'Elliot?'

'Come in then,' he muttered bluntly, and Tyrell scrambled to his feet.

'Elliot, I…'

Elliot turned away from him and started to move back towards the bed.

Tyrell didn't really know where to sit so he perched awkwardly on the edge.

'What are you doing?' Elliot grumbled.

'Um…'

'We're not going to talk about anything tonight, so you may as well get some sleep.'

Confused, Tyrell just nodded, getting up to move over to the sofa.

'Where are you going?'

'To the sofa, I thought…'

'Don't be fucking stupid.'

Despite himself Tyrell smiled as he slid awkwardly under the covers next to Elliot.

Elliot seemed to drift off about ten minutes later, but Tyrell couldn't sleep. He lay rigid next to Elliot, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He was too afraid to move, in case he somehow broke the delicate truce they seemed to have formed.

When Elliot woke up a few hours later Tyrell was showered and dressed, sitting on the sofa with his laptop.

The older man looked up quickly when he heard Elliot stirring.

'Do you want some breakfast? I could make eggs, or…' he started, moving over to Elliot.

'No,' Elliot answered bluntly.

Tyrell blinked, surprised.

'Just because I let you stay here doesn't mean things are fixed.'

'I know. I'm sorry. I just thought…'

'How could you do that to me?'

Okay, so they were doing this right now. Tyrell drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes to compose himself. He tried to remember the words he'd practiced while he was lying awake in bed, but they'd abandoned him.

'I know what I did was wrong. I saw a way in and I took it, but I should never have done what I did. I have no excuse, I'm so sorry.'

'I know why you did it- I was just a pawn to you. What I don't understand, what I simply cannot fathom, is how you could enjoy doing what you did. I know you use people Tyrell, it's what you do. But you got a kick out of using me, and I don't understand why.'

Tyrell looked at a loss for words, confusion marring his features.

'Elliot, you were never just a pawn to me, I thought you understood that. I wanted us to work together, be allies. I was fairly certain I'd made that clear to you very early on. But you weren't interested. I wanted to leave you alone after that, but I couldn't. I was desperate, and I still saw you as my only hope. I felt like I had no choice. But believe me when I say I got no pleasure from deceiving you the way I did.'

'But the way you talked about it, you made it sound like a game, a chase. What were the words you used, 'exciting', 'intrigue'…? You enjoyed finding my weakness and exploiting it. You enjoyed playing with me like I was some sort of toy! With everything else you did you just went through the motions, but not with me. Why?!'

His voice was starting to rise, and he stopped himself, taking deep, ragged breaths.

Tyrell was staring at him, eyes wide and sad, and mouth open in shock.

'Elliot, is that really what you thought?'

Elliot just nodded, scared that his voice would betray him.

'Elliot, I…' he trailed off brokenly, at a loss for words.

Elliot felt his chest tightening and wanted Tyrell to leave before he crumbled. The very least the man owed him now was his dignity.

'I want you to leave.' His heart hammered in his chest. This was it. 'We're done.'

'Elliot no, please let me explain…'

'We're done,' Elliot repeated. 'Take your things and…'

'I wanted you!' Tyrell blurted desperately. He'd wanted to be more eloquent about it, but that would have to do. Elliot looked startled.

'I wanted you, Elliot. I thought it was obvious,' he frowned.

'What are you saying?'

'I wasn't excited by the idea of manipulating you, I hated it! I tried so hard to get you on my side, but eventually I got desperate. It seemed like the only way. I didn't know what else to do. But I hated deceiving you!'

He tried to read Elliot's face, but the younger man gave nothing away.

'The intrigue and excitement I spoke of was in reference to you. I found you intoxicating, and wanted to be close to you. I'm sorry that I didn't explain myself properly earlier. Sometimes I don't find the right words in English. But if I'm completely honest, I thought you knew. I was always clear about my intentions.'

'What?' Elliot's brain couldn't muster a better response than that.

'Something drew me to you when I first met you at Allsafe. After that, I was yours. I tried to fight it, tried to see you as a business associate, and nothing more, but I couldn't. Did you honestly not feel it? How I stood too close, how I'd grab you by the arms…'

'I thought you were trying to intimidate me.'

'…how I couldn't stop my thumbs from stroking your shoulders as I did so?'

Elliot swallowed.

'Elliot, why do you even think I was at Steel Mountain that day?'

Elliot didn't know how to answer, so he kept quiet.

'You thought I was trying to intimidate you?'

'Maybe not all the time. Eventually I think I realised,' Elliot mumbled.

'This has always been my problem. I'm a simple person Elliot, I use words carefully, and sparingly. I've always felt that people are straightforward, and that the easiest way to convey your intent is with your actions. Body language can tell you a lot about a person, and I've always been very direct, physically speaking. But I've also found that sometimes people aren't accustomed to this, they're trained to look for hidden meaning in your subtleties, rather than accept what you put right in front of them. People by nature don't tend to reach out and take what they want, so I understand how my actions could have seemed a bit…intense, as opposed to romantic. This was my mistake, I apologise.'

His words were starting to make sense to Elliot. He had come to learn that Tyrell was indeed, extremely forward. He was tactile by nature, and seemed to have a general disregard for personal space. It had been unsettling for Elliot, who liked to keep his distance from people. Eventually though he must have gotten used to it; gradually he'd stopped flinching away, and now it was just part of how they were together.

Tyrell was passionate, and always made it very clear when he wanted Elliot. It was what made sex with him so intoxicating, the feeling that he needed you, right then and there. A leg jammed between yours, lips on your neck, hands stroking your thighs…

In turn, he also responded positively to such gestures from Elliot. Elliot tended to initiate sex less often, but when he did it seemed to drive Tyrell crazy. Elliot had worked out early on that Tyrell liked to be dominated. He moaned when Elliot pinned his wrists down, writhed with pleasure when Elliot leaned his weight down onto him. He suspected that Tyrell found pleasure in the freedom of Elliot having total control; as if not having to take charge somehow heightened his senses, and allowed him to completely let go.

He started to recall their early encounters. Each moment of prolonged eye-contact…every unnecessary touch…the weight and sincerity of Tyrell's words…how for a while he seemed to be around every corner. Fuck, it all made sense. For all of his ability to read people, he had always been oblivious when it came to noticing romantic advances. He always misread situations, and asked awkward questions at the wrong moment. It was safe to say he'd never been smooth. But how the fuck had he missed this?

Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd been scared of the implications of Tyrell's advances, so convinced himself he'd got the wrong idea. He recalled the feelings of unease and nausea that he'd persuaded himself was fear. Maybe this had been what people referred to as 'butterflies'. He cringed at himself for being so cheesy.

He remembered in flashes the day he'd taken Tyrell to the arcade for the first time. The ghost of hands on his face, the smell of latex gloves, Tyrell's eyes full of reverence… that had been the moment he'd finally admitted his feelings to himself, he realised now. When he'd let his desire take hold of him. He remembered very little else from that day, but he distinctly remembered his own arousal. Shit.

Tyrell was looking at him expectantly but Elliot couldn't for the life of him remember the last thing that had been said. He licked his lips and swallowed, trying to encourage saliva back into his dry mouth.

'Elliot?' Tyrell whispered, trying to make sense of the strange look Elliot was giving him.

The younger man nodded eagerly, eyes wide.

'I'm not misreading this situation, am I?' Tyrell didn't dare be hopeful.

'No, you're not,' Elliot croaked.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes,' he whispered breathlessly.

'Fuck,' Tyrell groaned, and in one fluid movement, he'd lunged towards Elliot, kissing him hungrily and pushing him backwards until they were both on the bed.

Tyrell broke the kiss, panting. He looked down into Elliot's eyes, his own shining with moisture.

'Elliot, I'm so sorry. I promise you I will never do anything to break your trust again. Please forgive me.'

Elliot knew they had more to talk about- he still had a lot of unanswered questions. But for now at least, he was confident they were going to be alright.

He didn't know how to put any of this into words however, so instead he reached up and put his fingers in Tyrell's hair.

He tugged roughly, bringing Tyrell's lips back down to meet his own, and kissed him again.


End file.
